Heartburn (Love By Design 3)

“Hey, look at me.” Whit took my face in his palms and kissed the end of my nose and then my lips in a sweet lingering kiss. “Of course it will, baby. I won’t lie, but it has to get cleaned out. I could give you stitches later, but my sewing isn’t so great and like I said, the glue will keep it together so we don’t have to go to the ER unless you want to.”

The horror on my face must have been comical because he laughed and kissed my nose again. I didn’t find much about this funny at all while my body vacillated between pain and wanting to pounce him out here under the watchful eyes of nature.

“Relax, I got this, Amelia.” He twisted open a bottle of water and poured it over my leg letting it run off.

“You mean you’re not a seamstress along with being my own personal MacGyver?” Hope caught in my throat when he poured the water slowly over the cut. Hope that he wasn’t going to actually slap that antiseptic pad directly on my knee.

“Don’t bite your lip.” He warned me holding my thigh down with a heavy hand that imprinted the skin with his. I knew it was coming, I just didn’t know when and the anticipation kept me rigid.

“You’re going to murder me aren’t you?”

He wetted the gauze and applied it to the cut letting it fizzle and bubble. “Sorry sweetheart. The glue will leave less of a scar.”

I hissed as he held me steady. “Holy shit balls.” That had to be the dirtiest rock I ever landed on. My leg was foaming like a rabid animal.

I whimpered, “It’s deep enough for a scar?”

“Yeah, ‘fraid so baby.” He blew gently over the area watching it do its thing.

“Oh crud.” I leaned back trying to not look at all the blood gushing from the wound collecting on the pad that was mostly rusty looking water on this pass. I wasn’t vain enough to care about a scar on my knee, but it looked messy and I hoped the glue held so I could avoid the emergency room or a pokey doctor.

“Blood doesn’t make you faint does it?” Whit asked seriously and I wasn’t sure if I should lie or be honest. My stomach was already churning.

“N-no.” I cupped a hand over my mouth and breathed in and out slowly.

“Liar. Here, use the cold compress against the back of your neck and don’t look. I’m going to glue it closed since it’s a clean gash, I just want to make sure everything gnarly is out of it before I close it up.”

“What happens if it’s not?”

“I’ll have to take you to the hospital for them to open it up and flush it, but seriously that’s like the worst case scenario and only if you want some pretty tight and itchy stitches. The glue will do the same thing. We’ll probably have to get you a tetanus shot at the campus clinic tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure I liked clinical and serious Whit as much as fun and flirty Whit.

I groaned leaning my head back. I would not think about that right now. Shots were a problem for another day.

“Will you carry me back?” I glimpsed the red stuff oozing down my leg as he applied a thick bandage sopping up a handful of wadded cotton.

“Two miles? It’s a stretch, but I could do it.”

“My hero.” I crooned until blinding pain forced me back up again. “Ah shit!”

Whit held my shoulder down keeping me from moving again. “That’s the antiseptic pad.” He informed me. No shit, Mr. Sherlock.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I half shrieked, half grumbled.

“Because I had a feeling you’d jump off the rock if I did. Sit back, I got this.” He voiced with a clinical detachment I wasn’t used to hearing.

“I didn’t realize you were still cleaning it out.”

“I have to if I’m going to seal it shut. Don’t move.” Whit pinched my skin together and I felt a cool burn on my knee where he applied the glue.

“How long do we wait?” Stress and more unshed tears clogged my vision.

“Until it dries.” He blew on it and my legs shivered. His lips grazed the spot to the right of my knee. He doesn’t seem the least bit grossed out by blood and the already forming bruises.

“What if a bear comes?” I asked as he kissed up my leg looking at me like he’s intent on making out right here on the trail where anyone could come upon us with what looked like an almost murder scene, and the evidence of my bloody stupidity.

“You should be more worried about me baby.” He made huffing bear sounds and I giggled. Whit crawled on the ground next to my body and gently laid my head down on his shoulder. He took the cold compress from my neck and placed it gently on my inner knee.

“I’m not getting naked.” I shivered.